Monday, 22 September 2014

Not sure

Here I am, sitting in my attic again. Something I haven't done in while, even though it's such a good place. Summer is almost gone, and rather than making the most of the September sunshine I sit long hours in the office most day, so that it's already getting dark when I finally jump on my bike to cycle home. Feels a bit like I lost balance. Recently, after a jazz gig in the Burton Taylor Studio (OxJaMS concert featuring Robin Jones and Eric Young with George Haslam, Richard Leigh Harris, and Steve Kershaw) I took a picture of a young woman, arranging a great 'selfie' with the musicians:

Sunday, 8 June 2014

Driving to crystal fighters music

... and feeling like so many years ago, when there was nothing more invigorating than driving around in my tiny car and having the sound on full blast! Not that full blast in those days was anywhere near the sound we're getting from car sound systems these days, but I dare say it didn't stop us from having just the same exuberant fun (and possibly annoying anyone nearby)! Hard to find the means to explain ...why do I like 'You and I'?

Tuesday, 28 January 2014


Today, on a day off work, I re-discovered my addiction to being slow ... My absolute favourite book for a very long time was Stan Nadolny's 'The Discovery of Slowness'. It's a long time ago I discovered it, still living in Germany, and I read it in German: 'Die Entdeckung der Langsamkeit'. Slowness in Nadolny's book means the ability of a person to wait. I guess it's rather unlikely that anyone who knows me associates me positively with this very ability. I assume that - quite often - I'm impatience personified. But that's exactly the point. The way life seems to work these days is bound to create impatience, haste, speed and so-called efficiency.

Taking time to discover what lies behind the next bend, or waiting for the light to colour the world, showing it at its best, or discovering the clouds and 'hanging on to them':

Tuesday, 26 February 2013

I love Tate Britain

Two weeks ago we went to see the Schwitters exhibition in Tate Britain. It was good. Schwitters always made me curious, his collages are brilliant, and he was full of inspiration.

Apart from being amused and intrigued by Schwitter's collages all over again, we also couldn't help admiring lots of Turners. And - overall - just re-discovering Tate Britain, which is such a good place to be ...

Friday, 22 February 2013

Trumpet and Sax

Waiting in a music school can put your ears to a test. In one room behind me is someone happily and loudly trumpeting. In the room next to it is a tenor sax. Tentatively and a bit subdued it tries to let jazz sounds getting through the door and walls.
Now, the paragraph above was written weeks ago and failed to publish. Now I'm in a completely different location, waiting for a John Naughton lecture to start: The future is mobile, the future is bleak ...

Monday, 31 December 2012

2013 about to start ...

OK - it's now 21:14 on 31 December 2012. Seize the moment ...

Monday, 26 November 2012

Retrospection: a Saturday in Paris

Moriyama, Brancusi, Billy Purefoy in the theatre Bouffes du Nord, Le 6ieme Continent, all rolled in one Saturday on 10 November 2012.

Moriyama - Polka Gallery

After the show - with Billy in theatre des Bouffes du Nord
After the usual little excursion buying film for Simon's Rollei  we accidentally came past the Polka Gallery, which to our amazement was just launching Moriyama - off all photogaraphers just the very one who is on Simon's list seriously high up. Apart from the exhibition I really loved the gallery, with its excellent position, two different parts in different sections of the building. All in black and white, including two young smart guys, one the owner of the gallery, the other a photographer. Forgot his name. Got to ask Simon, who has the card which apparently I was supposed to receive. We moved on to Centre Pompidou, enjoying a stint of didgeridoo music, a bit of Parisienne atmo, a virgin Mary, a mono cyclist, a street pianist (piano on wheels) and then the Brancusi studio, or rather it's re-build version. A little bit of shopping (sweater for Jasper), and then a vast shower happened to come upon us. Panic. I just did not want to get wet and cold, thinking of the evening ahead, with theatre and all! The weather until that moment had been quite amazing, especially for taking photos. Clouds simply make it so much more interesting.

Getting back, mostly dry (I had selfishly hogged the mini umbrella, but after all I had been carrying it all day), we put a little bit of effort into 'the looks'. Mainly it meant changing into smarter shoes. Re-discovered black spiky boots felt very appropriate for an evening out in Paris. The metro delivered us to the road we had to walk along to reach our destination. It felt a bit like little India, silken saris, glitter and food places. Overtaking an endless row of cars stuck in a traffic jam which occasionally broke out into helpless hooting concerts heightened the joy of moving on foot towards our destination, the Theatre des Bouffes du Nord. We arrived far too early, and had plenty of time to spend in the theatre restaurant, with good food and a bottle of red. It seemed very sudden when the place filled up with people. As it happens, time flies when the times are good. And then, finally, our entry into the theatre, which turned out to be spectacular. A place from another era, unearthed rather than restored. I just loved it. Subtle colours, darkish red and brown. It's an old theatre, a discovery, unreconstructed in the best sense of the word. A compact space for the audience, arranged in a half circle around the large stage. 

The 6th Continent was interesting, with a brilliant screenplay, and despite not understanding French I managed to make sense of what was going on. Despite better knowledge and hopeful aspirations corruption takes over and smothers the planet in plastic rubbish. That's it in one sentence, which - of course - doesn't do the play justice. But it's really short.

Description on theatre website:
"Small streams make great rivers and all rivers flow into the sea. But the beauty of fluid mechanics turns into a nightmare when we know rivers transport with their shameful foam our daily trash. Glued together by sea currents, all this rubbish soon joins in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, an immense floating dump which is already the size of a continent.
Using ecological facts to denounce the existence of  this 6th Continent testifying of our scandalous inconsequence, Swiss director, Lilo Baur, uses the metaphor of a man who sees himself  robbed, one after the other, of his social attributes to become a naked monkey reigning over the chaos of a world transformed into a mound of garbage.
Humorously punctuated by Daniel Pennac’s text which pin with cutting irony our guilty incapacity to respect the planet, Lilo Baur’s show transforms this huge historical migration of waste into a joyful opera bouffa served by a theater company, without boundaries, made of actors who are also dancers and singers."

Note: I found both names of the guys at Polka Gallery: Jean-Kenta Gauthier (owner) and Ethan Levitas (photographer)!

And I do need to mention, last but not least, Niki de Saint Phalle: